Anger
by WhitePhoenixes' old account
Summary: Rosalie tries to control her temper. At times she fails.


Title: Anger

Author: AntheaMS

Summary: Anger, was something she never was able to control.

Rating: PG for language

Disclaimer: Do I look like Stephanie Meyers to you? NO. Twilight will never belong to me.

Author's notes: I was pissed when I wrote this. Make that really really pissed. x) Please Review! I wanna know how I did with my first Twilight fanfic.

She felt insurmountable anger, as she ran through the forest, getting faster with every step. She hated her, hated all that she represented, all that she would never be able to achieve. She hated her ability to have children, hated that she would never be able to be the same.

She was faster now.

Dying once more with every step.

Her dead heart beat heavily in her chest. With each unneeded breath she took, it ached. A slow, terrible ache, hurting her with each step forward. And she took many that day.

She didn't know when it started. When this jealousy started. Perhaps it was from the day she saw her, playing happily with the little kids she had, that she started to regret hate things for what they are. She never did remember who changed her, but now, running at top speed through the forest, regret pounding in her heart, she wished desperately that she was never changed. She wished that she had been left there to die all that years ago. She would have preferred death to this state of stasis that she had been put into. Never aging, never dying, unless a fatal wound did her in.

She had sacrificed so much. Her family's happiness; all gone. Her husband, dead, lying, his body broken in the depths of the Angel falls, never to be seen again. She hated her so much, Bella, Bella, always that little Bella. She hated that lying little bitch so much.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to rage. She wanted to let out all the pain. She wanted the catharsis.

So she did the next best thing. She ran.

She was nearing Denali now. She was exhausted now, but she ran on. She needed the release.

She hated that lying bitch. She saw her for who she was, when Bella thought that no one was looking. She saw the little sly looks that bitch shared with Jacob; witness the passionate kisses they shared whenever Edward went to hunt, even though Bella was already married to him. She tried to stop them, but they were faster. They killed her Emmett when they thought that no one knew, and pushed all the blame to her. Her family had been suitably destroyed. It was the final of the blows the pair struck on their family. Emmett had been their glue, the person that brought all of them together.

She never did know if her family did know about Bella's final treachery. Her only relief was in finding someone that she trusted enough to confine in, even though she was of the 'enemy'. All the Volturi wanted was for Bella to change, and change she did. She never did consider Heidi an enemy though. To her, she was one of the close friends she had when she was in Italy, not that her family knew anything about it. Her disappearance in the last few years of Emmett's life was to Italy, where she spent her time shopping and just talking to the huntress for the Volturi.

All she wanted was for things to be the same once more.

She wanted things to be simple. But things were never simple in love. Her lip curled up in disgust at that thought. A sentimental, albeit old, fool once told her that she could not force love. Perhaps, it was true to some extent.

She was almost there now, she could sense it. Nearing the Denali coven. Her feet were bloodied, clothes sticking to her skin, sweat all over her body. _Just a few more steps_ she thought tiredly to herself.

She thought of her family then, all the things that were and weren't said. She regretted the past, wanting to change it. She reached the door just as she was on the verge of collapse. Raising an arm to knock, she tapped once, before collapsing on the doorstep.

The last thing she heard before the darkness overwhelmed her was a scream of "Rosalie!" and cold arms carrying her in.

_It was her anger that did her in._


End file.
